As clear as mud.

The landlord is sending an Estate agent here tomorrow to value the house, we were supposed to leave here on Friday and oh, how I wish we had. The agents called and said that they had received  my email telling them that we had, as yet been unable to find alternative housing and that the Landlord was disappointed to hear that. Shame, my heart bleeds for him, imagine the trauma of having tenants who are still in your property, paying rent and cleaning it. He was so kind and said ( via the rental agents naturally) that he will not take further action as long as we understand that this is not an open invitation to stay indefinitely. He wants an update in a couple of weeks and if we are still here he will have no option but to take matters further.
My care is still broken which is handy in this case.
I am pottering, the house looks as though something is going on, pictures are down and some are packed, the rest are piled up waiting for the fairies to bring boxes. Ornaments are packed, apart from the ones I forgot to pack.
I have sorted through clothes and taken piles to the recycling centre, our bedroom doesn't look any different but it is actually pretty much packed up, apart from the stuff that isn't packed up, which is most of it.
I am so organised I'm meeting myself  coming home, before I've even gone out.
The thinking I have done about packing and getting this house ready to give back is impressive, I am convinced that when the time comes I can put into action all the plans I have made and it will run like a well oiled machine, it will be effortless.
The kitchen really looks good. There is a big fan in there that has been moved from somewhere else and whenever I walk into the kitchen and see it, I know we are getting ready to move and that fan will either be coming with us, or not.
We have been eating the food from the pantry to save money and also to get rid of it so we don't have to pack that and take it. Have you ever read 'The magic porridge pot'?  Good heavens our pantry is like that. We are ploughing through it and it is staying as full as it ever was. It is a marvellous work and also a wonder because I knew it was a great pantry but ye gads will we ever use it up? I suspect there will still be an awful lot of packing and moving of food stuffs when we leave here. Even though we have ALL THIS FOOD we all seem to stand in the kitchen and stare at it wondering what on earth we can eat and wishing we could just have Fish and Chips because NO MORE PASTA AND SAUCE FOR THE LOVE OF STORE CUPBOARDS!
I am sort of scrubbing as I go along, which is testament to marvellous drugs  ( prescription only of course) I want to say that there is no change despite the new meds because I still have several gulping and panic stricken moments a day and one huge one every night but there are noticeable differences. Yesterday I saw how dirty the kitchen floor was by the back door and I CLEANED IT. Right there and then, I actually swept and sprayed and cleaned and then looked at it and thought "that's better"
That may sound unremarkable to most people but to me, it is a glorious and miraculous thing. I cannot remember the last time I did anything like that.
 I have looked and seen dirt and mess and I stare at it and then walk away because 'what is the point?' I could clean it and some bugger will come along and undo it all withing 20 minutes, guaranteed. I will think about the mess that I saw and be completely overwhelmed by how exhausting it would be to clean it and then feel shame that I can see it and leave it and so then I will plan when I will clean it, eventually, I will half heartedly and extremely grumplily bloody well do it because no-one else will, will they? Nope, it's always left to me and THERE it's clean. Ish. It'll do.
Most evenings, when everyone has gone to bed I will stare at this room and sigh, it can be a nice room, albeit small and cluttered. I will tidy it and pick up toys and I'll put them on the stairs ready to take up when I go up, then I will walk past them for days until Eli just brings them back in here anyway.

I started this post a week ago, so that shows just how great those meds are doing! Heh. Bloody hopeless.
Sloth. I am a sloth, with the energy of slug.
I did ask H yesterday if he has noticed a change in me this past 2 weeks, since being on the new meds and he said he rather liked that cleaning I did last week. It was a glimpse of how I used to be, apparantly. I don't think I'll be getting taken for granted any time soon, so that's good.
I picked up some boxes to pack more stuff today, they're all staring at me from the back yard, if it rains tonight we'll be unstuck, I may move them inside the workshed, just in case. I shall be thinking of what I can pack in them in the meantime, this thinking about moving is positively exhausting I tell you.

It's Joshua's 3rd birthday tomorrow, dear Josh. I have managed to get his birthday presents together which has impressed even me, they are even at his house so he can have them when he wakes up, the boys are back at school tomorrow and so it's anyone's guess when I will get to see the birthday boy. Oh, even the smallest thing is so HARD, so overwhelmingly steep.
Lola is due any day. A granddaughter. She is already such a light in the darkness, such a hope and thing of joy, something to look forward to and already, even before she is born she has done so much for me and my grumpy, slothful self.
Mel's mum is in Turkey, she lives there and is supposed to be moving back here at the end of the summer, enough about her, the only reason I mention her is because as she isn't here, I am being the mother. I love this daughter in law of mine and I don't think I could love her more if I had given birth to her, she is the sweetest of girls and I know she makes Jordan happy, they are glorious together and a joy to see as a family.
The pregnancy is not fun for Mel anymore, she is having all kinds of signs that birth is imminent, shows and pains and more show and more pain, contractions and no contractions and rarely a day goes by that I am not down there keeping her company or taking her out, driving her to the hospital, sitting with her while she waits for the midwives and every time I do that, I feel closer to her. Every time she calls or texts or sends a message on Facebook, I feel less like her mother in law and more like her mum.
I am beyond excited that she wants me there when Lola is born. Watching Joshua being born  3 years ago tomorrow was such a blessing, something that I will always remember. I have given birth 6 times and so none of the mechanics of it was a surprise but I have never been an 'outsider,' a witness before and it truly is a miracle. Oh, I am so excited to see Lola being born and to know that she is a part of this lovely family. There is an enormous sense of greatness to be the Matriarch of this family, to be the 'old' one.  I don't mind getting older at all, the treasure that comes with age is so much more valuable to anything that we think is important when we are young.

I really hope that this sadness I have inside is not being passed on to any of my children, or their children. I am trying so hard to keep going, to keep being who I am to them all and not allow this awful sense of heaviness to show. I think that's why I am so tired, so bone achingly tired.

Next week we have a pediatrician's appointment for Isaac, my GP is concerned that since his initial diagnosis we haven't seen anyone, have had no support and indeed, have managed to limp along working it all out for ourselves. Now he is nearly 10 we are seeing things that we may need more help with, he has gone from being the most placid of children to being quite volatile, his anxieties are affecting him more because he is older and is aware that his reluctance to try new things makes him noticeable, he hates not being able to just go with the flow and really hates the fact that he stands out when he is hiding or unable to do what his classmates are doing effortlessly.
Seth has 6 weeks left at primary school and so we are already preparing for his starting at Senior school in September, this has Isaac feeling very nervous as he will be in year 6 in September and knows that this is the year he will prepare for this huge move. This is another reason we are going back to the pediatrician, so that we can have a more up to date diagnosis and get help and support for Isaac to help him when he needs it.
I've flipped from one topic to another in this post, sorry about that, welcome to my head. I think I have made my thoughts as clear as they come to me, which is in a muddy kind of landslide kind of way. Clear as mud. You're welcome.

Home is where the ......

Since I was 15 and I had my own first home, a tiny, rented cottage in a small Cornish town, I have loved making my home wherever I happen to be.
I have had a room in a nurses home, shared a flat, lived in Army accommodation in Germany and various towns in England. I have rented council houses, grand converted barns, town houses and a stinking evil spirited hovel.
I have always been able to make wherever we are home, people like coming to my home, we love to have people come, so that works out well.
I love the house I am in now. I do, it's a lovely house it has enormous potential and often I sit and imagine what I would do if this were my home. I have become jaded and wary of spending money on rented houses because landlords ( and ladies) love to have tenants improve and make beautiful and then they sell or make you move. So I don't do that anymore, beyond doing what I can do that can come with us should we have to move. I will make curtains and buy rugs, find beautiful furniture in back street thrift stores. I will make and mend and rearrange, I love it, it makes me heart happy.
When I was growing up we moved a lot, it never seems to matter because my mum has always been able to make wherever she lives a place where people love to be.
I go to my mums house and more and more I want to live there.
I am so tired. I am bone weary of trying, of trying and trying and trying to make this home a place where I want to be.
It is warm and we feel safe.
It is big enough for all of us and the clutter that a family of 6 collects and makes precious.
The neighbourhood is OK, it is incredibly handy for schools, town, parks, everything we want and need. Jordan, Mel and Joshua live in the street down from us. It is ideal in so many ways.
It has been one long struggle after another since we have lived here, the hot water, the damp and the rats. Oh the rats that keep going on vacation until we sigh with relief and believe we have done it and sent them packing and then they come back, with their relatives and  common new friends they picked up in Costa del filth.
We have been hearing them again for a few weeks, we have trapped and caught some, then the traps stayed empty and the pitter patter of worryingly loud feet running across the ceiling ceased. Exhale, relax.
The night before last I was woken every 40 minutes or so by the loudest crunching I have ever heard in my life, crunch, crunch, I would sit bolt upright and shine my ever handy torch in the direction of the wood crunching monster. Nothing. Zilch. Zero.
Nod off, CRUNCH, sit up, shine torch, hold breath, see nothing, lie down, drift off, CRUNCH, repeat, repeat, repeat.
Last evening I sat outside the bathroom reading a book while Eli had a bath, Crunch....SHUT THE HELL UP! Crunch.
Watching TV at 10pm I said to H " Listen..hear it?  Can you HEAR IT? Listen, above my head in that corner....HEAR IT????" He smiled and said " Do you hear voices sometimes or is it just the crunching?" Git.
This morning, as I was getting dressed I threw my PJs into the corner by the door and then I froze because what in the name of all that's freaky is THAT? I'll have to post a picture because it needs to be seen to be believed....here, look....



That wasn't there last night, that is some bloody great MONSTER RAT trying to (this is the bit that gives me the eebie jeebies) GET OUT OF OUR BEDROOM! Which means, if you are a little slow on the uptake, it was trapped IN our room while we were sleeping.
Which naturally made me feel the need to discover where that thing was coming in and it didn't take long at all.
I leave my towel, my lovely oversized bath sheet, that I can wrap around my bigger every day body on the radiator, so that it is always warm and toasty when I need it. It is a HUGE towel, big and thick and not fluffy because FLUFFY TOWELS are a BAD BAD thing, I hate fluffy towels they don't dry properly but I digress, this huge towel drapes rather prettily onto the floor and I was drawn to it, I whipped that thing of the radiator and there it was, a big old hole, eaten from beneath, through the floorboards and the carpet and TADA rat access to my bedroom.



Right there, can you see it? Black hole. Revolting carpet and who cares? I would if it was my house but it isn't so it stays until the landlord thinks we deserve new carpet, which will be never. Wait, that means it stays until never, work that one out when you're bored, you're welcome, can we concentrate on the RATS please, forget about the ugly carpet, keep up please.
Let me tell you, H came back from town and I caught him by the hand and I took him upstairs and I said " Hear THIS voice....that's most definitely NOT my imagination" which pretty much showed him who's crazy.

*sigh*
So that's where we are. Here, with the rats.
I hate it and I won't lie, I had a panic attack of splendidly impressive proportions, cried into my T shirt ( for greatest effect it ought to be an apron but darned if I ever got 'round to wearing one) looked online at beautiful and unobtainable homes to rent ( 5 bed, 2 bath, no rats and a garden) imagined packing and went out for the day in the sunshine that appeared today.
There you have it.
We have shoved wire wool in the rat hole and H has set more traps, if I get woken up by a SNAP sound in the night I can't say for sure what I will do.

Not sorry at all.

I have been so hopeless with my blog and recently I have regretted that, it's so good to be able to look back and see how things were in the past, I love to see how we have changed and grown, learned from mistakes and see where I need to work and concentrate more. Not writing here means I can't do those things and that annoys me!

So here I am, with a jumbly old pile of stuff to say, who knows if I will make any sense at all...ooh I should say that I have only just discovered that some comments were in a hidey hole awaiting my approval! Who knew that was a new thing? I love comments and so finding them was a treat indeed, also love that blogger seems to be filtering out spam and putting that in a separate cesspit, thankyou blogger, I appreciate that.

So, we have been homeschooling Elijah for a while and I should probably update on that, he has made huge leaps in many ways, he is asking questions ( and what questions he is asking! "what does light mean?" and " is that what this tastes like?" Fun answering some of his queries I can tell you!)

We now know he CAN sit still and concentrate, what works for him is to work for 15 minutes and then he gets to run around and be a dog, or a lion for 10 minutes. We are slowly getting him to concentrate for longer periods but he definitely learns best when he is on the go, when we are out and about and ask him questions he thinks and answers sensibly, if we have him work out money and find things in the shops he can do it easily, if we try to get him to do the same thing, sitting down in a lesson environment, it's like pulling teeth and we're not sure who it hurts the most.

I can't tell if he really has special needs or if he is 'normal' he certainly isn't like my other children but at his age THEY all had special needs, I have never had a 7 year old that is average. I do see that he isn't a shining scholar and he doesn't grasp things easily. He is learning about safety and my goodness that is such a relief. When we go out, if he is the only child he stays close by, he doesn't run away, he thinks and for the most part we can trust him . If anyone else is with us, all bets are off and he reverts to being the a liability. Slowly does it is our motto.

H is doing the majority of the school work with him, he is patience personified and between teaching Eli and tutoring Seth and his friend Harry every evening, ready for the 11+ I think he is in his element. I need to make sure that Eli's lessons are recorded so we have something to show the woman of doom when she comes back to see how we are doing. I can see that for Eli, the relaxed and suited to him way of learning is spot on. I still worry about the future for him but am learning to take things more on a day to day basis, for now this is working, who knows what the future holds, I know that right now, the thought of sending him to school is unbearable, I can't bear to think of him trying to be friends with kids who don't want him near them, I shudder when I think of his little face still smiling when those kids told him to go away and turned their backs on him. I love that a couple of the children at school are thrilled to see him and he has been to play with Alfie, he doesn't miss school and I ask him sometimes if he would like to go back to school one day, he always says "No, I don't" for now, that is enough for me.

Isaac has just been away for 5 days with the school, he stayed with the school and we didn't get a phone call to say he was having a rough time. He was obsessed with his packing and almost drove himself into a frenzy with the checking and rechecking, on the morning of camp day he stayed in the car and wouldn't get out until I told him his friend Jamie A was ready and in the playground, he grabbed his bags and left, we didn't follow him and let him get on the bus etc with his friends.

The second night of camp I was sick with worry, I couldn't settle and I just wanted to go and get him. I have sent my children away on various camps and such and I always worry before they go, once they have left I am fine, I think of them and hope they are happy, this time I just hated it, I was fretful and driving myself crazy with all the ' I feel like this because he is miserable and they are jollying him along and not allowing him to come with us' I argued with myself and eventually made myself believe that he was fine, even if he was unhappy he wouldn't be damaged for life etc etc.

I went to collect him from school, waited by the bus and didn't see him get off, I walked around the bus and still didn't see him, then I saw him out of the corner of my eye, standing right next to the minibus. He saw me and immediately put up his hands in a very definite ' don't come near me' way and then he turned his back. He walked into the playground and I followed him to help with his bags, he still wouldn't look at me but eventually answered a couple of questions and whispered that he had won ' tidiest room' and 'Best boy' awards.

His teacher was near the bags and heard me ask Isaac if he had done body boarding ( he had been insistent that he would not try it, not do it, would not be swayed at all, body boarding was a NO) she said " Do it? Did he ever do body boarding, in fact we could hardly STOP him body boarding" she then went on to say he had indeed won award for the 'Best boy' and he had got that because he was so well behaved and listened well etc.

He was obviously tired and so I didn't ask too many questions, he came home and he ate and ate and ate some more. Then he got a blanket, wrapped his stinky, dirty self in it and he wouldn't move. Then he cried for a long time, how I hate that silent cry, it is so pitiful, so overwhelming and I always feel so helpless because he can't tell me why he is crying, just perfectly silent as tears stream down his face. I picked him up and put him on the sofa next to me and let him cry. He held my hand for 3 hours, if I went to let go he would grab my hand again and put it back on his leg or hold one of my fingers and he whispered over and over again " I missed you " he went on to tell me "I liked Wednesday because we watched 'up' and I liked doing the stuff but I didn't like sleeping there and I wanted to sleep with you and dad at the caravan but I didn't tell them. I was hungry" He has told me the food they have to eat and it is certainly sufficient and all the things kids like, Isaac has an incredibly mature taste in food, he will choose Lamb biryani over chicken nugget and chips, he will ask for Sea Bass or trout and ask to cook it himself. He loves nothing better than left overs for breakfast and has an ever increasing interest in where his food comes from and how it is cooked. It was hard for him to eat regular kid food for 5 days! He didn't get his 7pm dessert either " the had brownies and cake but they gave it to us RIGHT AFTER DINNER! ( the very idea!!) As time goes by he is telling us more of what he did, he is proud of himself for going and for trying all the activities, I think it was tough for him to deal with 5 days of total break in his routine, he didn't shower at all while he was away and nobody cares about that, he is intensely private and won't have a bath here if Sophie has a friend over, he is just starting to be more modest when I am around, a quandary for him because he hates to wash his own hair, the water on his face is tough for him, I am sure it won't be long before he decides that washing his own hair is preferable to having his mum see his bum!



Seth and Eli are not buddies, at all, they seem unable to be in the same room, car, building, town as each other without fighting, oh it's so tiring to pull them apart, let them at it, pull them apart, warn them it'll end in tears, warn them again, sigh and say " See? SEE? Did I tell you? You can't listen can you, it always has to end with someone crying and....."

Not a day goes by without both H and I saying " don't look at him, touch him, reply to him, ignore him, pretend he isn't there" many times. In vain. They are compelled to scrap, what can I do?

I'm getting old, what that has to do with anything is neither here nor there but good heavens I feel it lately, the weather has changed and I feel it in my bones, there's no denying it, so I won't. I am in fact embracing some parts of it, I like to think I am playing it a bit, I have noticed that my big children are becoming my carers, how bizarre! I see more and more that they treat me like a precious dimwit and I am somewhat ashamed to say that I let them! The boys especially are treating me as if I am sure to break or get lost ( which I do, let's face it, if you put me in a paper bag and shook it twice I'd get lost trying to find my way out. We followed the mini bus to Cornwall, 68 miles. We made our won way home 112 miles....every time the scenic route, for the love of petrol it gets old BUT and yes, there is a BUT....I always find my way in the end!) I bite my tongue when I am tempted to point out that they are only where they are and who they are because I looked after them and got them where they are.

When Jenn and Julie were here we were going out for the day and we were following Dan, Jordan, Mel and her mum in Dan's car. The plan was that we go to my mums house first and pick up the post box she had made for them, she made it to go on the table at the reception to collect the cards, anyway off we went and I followed Daniel and he went through traffic lights and they turned red before I got through. Dan noticed and he pulled over in a lay by and waited for me! When we got to mum's I asked him if he had actually done that because he didn't believe I could find the way to my MOTHER'S house on my own! Jordan laughed and said " patronising twat isn't he?" Yes, but a glorious one.

Sophie is changing, it is quite the most touching and breath holding thing for me to see, I am on the sidelines and waiting to see her fly...and she will, if prayers and hoping, willing and longing have anything to do with it she will.

On the day Jordan and Mel got married, Sophie was astounding, a new person and she excelled, she was sophisticated and thoughtful, she outdid herself in her duties as a bridesmaid and at 5 o'clock she asked me what time I was going home and said she wanted to come home with me, she said she was tired and poorly and she would just come home. That isn't Sophie AT ALL, she is a party girl and she will be first there, last to leave and the loudest one in the room.
When she came home with me as I dropped H and the boys home, she was quiet ( BELLS! Ringing of the alarm bells!) so she said " I won't ever have that" I knew immediately what she meant, I said before and I will probably say it again, Jordan and Mel's wedding was one of a kind, the emotion and the absolute rightness was tangible, it was moving to everyone there and I suspect many people wondered if they would ever have 'that'.
I let her be quiet for moment and then I saw the tears and she said again " I know I will never have that"
I told her that she could and she will, if she is willing to do what it takes to get 'that' Right now she is a party girl, she is over loud, she is in your face she is outrageous and she doesn't like herself enough to treat herself nicely, let alone expect anyone else to treat her well.
I told her that while she is doing what she is doing, she will keep getting what she is getting. I asked her who she thought would want to share a whole lifetime with someone who gets drunk several times a week, who flashes her body and makes lewd comments at every opportunity. I asked her if maybe men thought she was great fun..for the night but maybe when or if they thought of loving someone forever they would be looking for someone that offered more, someone who thought more of herself? I told her also that she should change what she is doing, that she should try new things, go to new places, let people see who she REALLY is, not who she wants them to think she is.
I encouraged her to try and let people see the person I had been watching that day. I promised her that if she did that, if she got to like herself more it would be easier for someone to love her more. Sometimes, when I speak to my children I can tell that they have heard me. I Am sure she heard me.
She has applied to do a college course from home, she will have to work as well as study ( which is great, less time for partying!) I will do anything I can to help her do it, she wants to work with children and she is great with other peoples' children, she drives me insane with the boys but I am impressed with her when she is looking after other peoples' kids! I can't see her as a nanny because she isn't patient enough, I can see her in a nursery where there are several adults and lots of not baby children, she has a rough time with babies and the whole ' can't say what the problem is' thing. I shall be crossing my fingers and toes for her. She needs for some real changes and to feel useful and worthy of good things.

Tomorrow I am going to start on getting better, I have felt so poorly for so long, so low and pathetic, I can't imagine feeling better, physically the way I have been treating my body has caught up with me, I have always been such a healthy fat person but I can't say that anymore, good grief if I don't ache now the weather has changed, really limpy ache, oof and ouch and bloody hell ache.
I can't do this anymore.
I was shopping yesterday and a man walked past and as he passed me he made a violent kind of gagging 'Ugh' sound. Now, common sense tells me that he wasn't making that noise because I am so hideous he was unable to hold it in but that's exactly what I thought as he did it, I immediately tried to smell myself to see if I was rank and festering and then I tried to hold my head up and get the shopping done as quickly as I could.
It would seem ( steady on, some information about to be imparted that might not be strictly necessary) that the menopause is here, for real, I would say out of the blue but it isn't, not really, I have been a raging hormone filled unpredictable blob for so long I can't remember when it all started, I blame the sweating and unbearable heat waves on my medicines but let's be frank ( oh if only I could be Frank, he never has to deal with this crap does he? No, indeed not.) every time I sit and flap a piece of folded paper in front of my face and huff and puff IKNOW the world can see I am a woman of a certain age, hells teeth I hate it. The fact that my periods ( Aunt Flo as it is so quaintly referred to in polite circles) have been every 28 days for as long as I have had them, after babies 28 days, after major surgery 28 days, come hell and high water, every 28 days there it is, how terribly convenient.
I have had late periods 10 times in my life, 8 pregnancies, 2 miscarriages and 2 late periods with no apparent reason, 4-5 days late.
I am now over 2 weeks late, good heavens. I have even taken 2 pregnancy tests which were negative and let me tell you, there wasn't even a threat of a tear of disappointment when I saw the absence of a second line.
So, it looks like the menopause it is then, for real, with it's delightful promises of aching limbs and brittle bones. Life's just a barrel of laughs isn't it?
I know that I am now fighting against the odds here now, if I don't help myself I am destined to a life of limping misery and I am not ready to give in to all that age threatens. I can't when I have these 3 boys here and still so reliant on us to take care of them.
I have always been quite proud of the fact that even though I am considerably overweight it never slowed me down and now it does, by the end of the day my legs and back are screaming for mercy. I can't help but imagine how happy my legs would be if they had 100lbs less to carry around. I suspect my legs might do the fandango and I would jolly well let them, in public if I ever were to able to achieve such a glorious feat.
I know I have to move more and eat less and I have to eat the right foods when I am eating.
How many times have I been here? Oh shut up, I know, but look, it's when I stop coming back here that I have to worry, when I give up entirely and stop losing the weight before I put it all back on.
I am very worried about how baggy I will be as I lose weight, my poor face, never mind the bits that no-one else sees. I might have to invest in some seriously elastic knickers and some extra long and stretchy socks and tuck everything in in a military operation every day, I shall start wearing polo neck jumpers to hide the droopy neck and face skin...oh dear, the very idea. I stand by my idea that eating cakes has kept the wrinkles at bay, every time I see an advert for 'plumping' face cream I tell the TV...EAT A CAKE! I shall rue the day I know it.
It's taken me 2 days to write this drivel, I'd apologise but I'm not sorry at all.

So....

I am just getting on with getting on.

H looks well, he has lost weight, has more energy, loves being up here on the allotment. My sister rents this ground and with her husband is growing beautiful vegetables and fruit, they both work full time and so they don't have much time to go and tend the plants, H has taken on some of the ground and goes up there every day, the boys go with him and together they spend hours digging and watering ( the boys spend most of the time climbing trees and chasing each other but it's outside and they are happy and healthy, perfect!)

I have found, with the worry of H not taking his medicine that, along with the others worries that would see me in the mad house, I just have to take things day to day, not dwell on it and try not to see disaster in every minute.

I bought a very cheap mobile phone and when H takes the boys on hikes or bike rides, I insist that one of them has the phone with them. H is stubborn but Isaac loves the phone so he has hit with him, at least, if the worst should happen I know the boys can call for help.

I am so excited about the fresh fruit and vegetables when they start to come in. We only ever eat organic, free range meat now, it costs 3-4 times as much as supermarket food but oh my goodness, what a difference.

I pay about £16 for a chicken, the funny thing is, raw it looks awful. It is solid, not squishy because there is no added water, it looks very dry and of course it is hand plucked so there are always more feather stubs! I was very wary when I fist cooked one of these chickens because it just looked so rough! My goodness, I have never tasted anything like it. Moist and tender, pure tasting and each chicken ( about 6lbs in weight) easily gives us 3 meals. The carcass makes the most delicious stock. The whole family loves the soup I make with the stock, add a couple of cans of creamed sweetcorn, some single cream and some of the meat and you have the most glorious soup to eat with some crusty bread.

Last week we bought some mutton and H loved it ! I cooked it in the slow cooker with onions and tinned tomatoes, when the meat was falling apart I made a curry sauce using the tomato and onion liquid the meat had cooked in. Heaven!

It took me a week and 2 different meals to decide that paying that much more for this meat is worth it. I will never buy meat from a supermarket again, the difference is so stark, so incredible that the thought of ever eating that watery, steroid pumped shop meat again is ridiculous. The boys eat every scrap, Seth especially loves the chicken. I feel I want to stand on a soap box and preach to people about eating free range, organic meat!

We eat much less meat than before, it is much more satisfying, you need much less on your plate to feel sustained. We eat meat perhaps 4 times a week, we buy sausages, minced pork, roasting joints, ribs and pork fillets from a friend who has a small holding, we also buy eggs from her, again the difference is amazing, dark orange yolks, beautiful tasting eggs. We buy beef and chicken from a farm about 4 miles away. Spending about £40 a week at the farm I buy 1 chicken, some mutton and ground beef, I also buy great bread and jam from the shop along with some fresh vegetables ( until we have our own!!) I spend about £30 every 2 week on the pork. I do have a fairly full freezer now though so won't need to buy any meat for at least a month.

I really recommend going this route if you can, once you try and taste the difference you won't want to go back to the wishy washy stuff of before!

*Stepping off soap box*

I am just in heaven with the weather we are having at the moment, oh such heat! Such sunshine! Such heavenly days of relaxation and untidy house! Really, does anyone clean and scrub when the weather is like this? The boys are doing really well tidying up after themselves and earning computer time, laundry is done and dried outside but ironing? I think not!

Living in England we can never be sure how long the sun will last, why waste an hour of it to vacuum and tidy when we could be at the water park or beach?

Car boot sales have been fabulous, it seems people don't mind sitting out in the heat selling their trash as other people's treasure! We have found sales 3 days a week and H and I love wandering around and finding bargains.

Life is OK, sometimes it's fabulous, sometimes it feels so hard I would love to crawl into bed and stay there. The best thing is to keep getting on with getting on. That's good enough for now.

I've had better days....

I'm glum today, all sort of crumpled and weary.
I don't like feeling this way and so have tried to get over it. I'm sure I will get over it but it didn't happen today.
The Ebay auction went well, lots of people watching and taking interest, lots of people read the page and some emailed me.
I showed the car to a few people, answered questions, replied to emails.
The winning bid was for £385.90, which for a broken car is a great price, huge help towards the new car. I opened the email from Ebay giving me details of the winner and immediately felt uneasy. The winner had 0 feedback, oh well, we all have to start somewhere but buying a car as your first ebay experience? Iffy.
Lives hundreds of miles away. Buying a broken car when you live several hours away? Wouldn't that be a stupid move?
I sent an email saying congratulations and asking that she pay within 3 days.
No reply.
No communication at all.
This morning, I called the phone number sent by Ebay. It was a business, the person on the phone had no idea what I was talking about and knew no-one by the name I was given.
I googled the address, it's a fake one, again a business address.
All this means is stress, hassle, time and energy and even money wasted.
I am now supposed to wait 4 days, then I can file a complaint and a non payment action. Then I am supposed to wait another 4 days to see if the winner will respond to the communication from Ebay. After 7 days I can relist the car.
Why? Why would anyone take so much time and effort to make someone else miserable? The only reason for this was to cause me trouble and inconvenience. What makes somebody so bitter, so miserable that they feel this is a way to cheer themselves up? What a pathetic and hopeless life this individual must have.
I am relieved that I have a buyer for the car, I won't believe it until it has been picked up and paid for.
I have tried to not let the whole car dying thing get to me, it is a huge deal. I do not have money enough that I can just shrug my shoulders and buy another one. I have 4 weeks to find £1,800. I believe I can do it and making that money on the old car would help enormously....I am just so sad that someone felt the need to be so spiteful as to make it all harder than it needs to be.
I am trying not to go down the 'why ME' road, I am assuming it is an anonymous person with too much time on their hands, someone who has no friends and little joy. I keep pushing away the thoughts that it could be someone that specifically wanted to hurt ME...I hope there isn't anyone that feels so badly towards me personally that they would go to these lengths to vent their spleen.
I am astounded by how much I rely on a car, I should probably be horrified but I'm not.
Incredible how much more planning has to go into every day living just to do what we need to do.
I really never took too much notice of how many steep hills are involved in getting to the places we go....no avoiding those hills and my legs are screaming with displeasure and discomfort!
As if that wasn't all bad enough, yesterday, dare I say it? We had a RAT in the house, in the front room even, in broad daylight.
I just felt as though that was the perfect end to a revolting day.
I do wish I had seen the performance in the front room with H and Sophie.....she saw it, he got a long stick and was trying both to sweep under the sofa and jump to avoid the rat and scare it out of hiding!
It ran over Sophie's foot ( oh so glad that wasn't ME!)
They then blocked off the hallway, opened the front door and scared it right out of the house!
Today I went and bought these, I hope they work as the reviews say they do because I simply cannot do that whole rat thing again. I can't.
We have no idea how that thing even got in, the holes are blocked, they haven't been opened again, no new holes. I'm not thinking about it anymore. Gah.
So today has been a glum day. Not depressed, just glum.
The rain doesn't help, endless rain, thankfully we had sunshine on Sunday as we walked to church, apart from that it has rained and that does not help with the misery of walking everywhere, not at all.
Tomorrow I shall endeavor to pull myself up by the bootstraps ( is that the saying?) and cheer myself up, carry on and calm down ( should be carry on and keep calm but for me, calm down fits better because you can't keep calm unless you already ARE calm can you?)
Today I wallowed as we all ought to be allowed sometimes. Happy that the day is almost over though.

Of mice and men.

Yesterday was a perfect day.
Isaac was baptised, when the other 4 of my children, who have been baptised, had their day, I was unbelievably stressed, in fact so stressed that I can barely remember the days, so worried was I that all would go well and hitch free.
Isaac is different, in many ways he is different and one of his quirks is that he doesn't like any fuss, which for me, is a gift, a glorious and happy thing.
So, I decided that his day, his baptism, would be done his way, no plans for crowd of spectators, no chapel full of hymn singers and friends of friends, no invites, no party. Just Isaac and his baptism.
We used the little room that is beside the font, just our family and perhaps 9 or 10 people. Grandma gave a talk, Isaac's teacher gave a talk and the time they were speaking, because we were in a little room and they were right in front of him, his eyes never left their faces, it was as if they were talking to him and him alone, he didn't falter when he walked into the water, he listened as H said the words before he was put under the water and when he came out of the water he was smiling.
I discovered that H, glorious as he is, had fasted for 24 hours before baptising Isaac, so he would be spiritually in tune. I love him.
While Isaac and H went to get dressed, I had planned to play some lovely spiritual music, instead a few of the people that were there bore their testimonies. Such beautiful, simple words of how Jesus Christ is important to us. The lovely part was that no-one knew that was going to happen, nobody had time to think about what to say, it all came from the heart. There were a few tears, some from me because, although I usually avoid having any visible part in my childrens' baptisms, I just couldn't let the chance go by without sharing how I feel.
Sophie came. She arrived early, straight from work, looking beautiful and she perched uncomfortably on a side seat and looked as though she wished she were anywhere else.
I chose songs from the children's primary song book, just 2 songs, one to start and one to end. She sang them, from start to finish, because she remembers them from when she was a little girl. She was sitting just to the right of me and I dare not look at her because I could hear her singing.

" There's a right way to live and be happy,
It is choosing the right every day
I am learning the teachings of Jesus,
They will help you and show you the way.
Choose the right way and be happy,
I will always choose the right.
Through the gospel I learn to be prayerful,
to have faith, to repent, to obey.
And I know if I live by his teachings,
I will truly be happy each day."

Funny isn't it, how the simplest of words can mean the most.
So many people look at how we live in the church and say how hard it must be, how difficult to abide by so many rules. The opposite is true. Living the gospel, abiding by the simple guidelines makes living much easier, by accepting that to live in this world but not be of this world, by having priorities that are based in spiritual wealth and not material gain life is simple, it is infinitely easier to feel you are ahead of the gain.
I am so sad that somehow, I didn't let how I feel about the gospel evident to my children, I assumed that they would know, by seeing how I lived that I do this because it is right, it is good, it is beneficial and it is so precious to me that I cannot imagine not feeling as I do, not having what I have.
I am fiercely, but far too quietly protective of my beliefs, I am unable to speak about it and stand back while what I love is perhaps ridiculed.
I am far too often quiet when I should speak out, I have a friend, who isn't the same religion as me who is so unashamed, so incredibly in tune with her spirituality, she loves to share how she feels and wherever she goes, people love her because this is who she is.
I want to be more like her.
When we were going to Boston, either the first or second time, somebody said ( and I forget who it was) " I want to hear Helen pray"
At the time I was surprised because I don't think I share the spiritual side of me often enough at all, I was happy that someone felt that way though and sad that somehow, the time passed without my getting to pray with my friend. I wish I could go back and rectify that. ( which would be easier if I could remember who said it!)
While we were at church in the morning, mum asked me to drive her and Leah home, so I did that and then had the clever idea to run home, put the chicken in the oven so it would be ready when we arrived home.
Chicken in, I went to the loo, checked emails while I par boiled some potatoes, walked back into the kitchen and a mouse the size of a cat ran in front of me, that thing was FAT and I saw it run into the laundry room. GAH!! Kitchen mice, not good, huge great big fat ones? REALLY BAD!
I was incredibly brave, telling myself how it ran away, it was scared of ME...I poked my head around the wall of the laundry room ( which has had the worst funky smell for WEEKS) the whole time making a pathetic "oooh, ooooooooooh whispery noise" I saw where it went and where it has been coming in and out and a plan was formed.
I went to leave and as I waled past the cupboard in the hallway, I heard scratching, real loud scratching and I felt as though I was in a horror movie. I am now convinced this house is over run with rodents, nightmare sized rats that wait for me and are planning how to get me.
Last night was rough, I kept shoes on and I jammed things against the cupboard door and the laundry room door and I put lights on, lots of BRIGHT lights, fluorescent strip lights and I jumped at discarded socks, there was a rubber octopus on the bathroom floor, dark and creepy looking right in the corner and I tell you, that thing made me jump and SWEAR!
I told H all the things we needed to do, today. I love him because he absolutely got that when I said 'WE' I meant 'HE'. I bought poison and then I took the boys out. He cleared the laundry room , found the huge hole where they have been coming in and out, he cleaned and cleared and filled and blocked. Then he went to the cupboard under the stairs and he cleared that and emptied it ( the black home of car seats and vacuum spares, sewing boxes and crap. Lots of crap and as he went to grab the last box he saw it. THE MONSTER MOUSE. Our kitchen is full of boxes and car seats and vacuum spares because even H, level headed no nonsense H was freaked, he put down poison and he slammed the door shut, blocked the gap under the door so the bugger can't escape and he walked away. We are telling ourselves that we are giving the poison time to work when actually neither of us wants to go back in there and see where it is. I did quickly open the door, grab the tray with pellets on and I spread peanut butter on them because I am told PB is irresistible to mice and I so want them to eat it and DIE. ( hoping they eat it, run outside through an invisible escape hole that will then close itself up in a magical way.)
Plan B is to get Sophie drunk and tell her her new pet is under there, give her a box and set her free.
Whatever works.
All in all, it was a good day, a great day.
Hope we got rid of the mice, shall be keeping the man. Perfect.

101 subjects.

Sometimes ( though not often) I have a dilemma that I long to blog about and then I think, hmm maybe I shouldn't, because it is about someone other than me, like my children, who are a part of me and so usually I think, they're mine, I can talk about them, what can they do? They won't even read this until I am dead and even then who will think to give them the link and say " she loved you, most of the time, you drove her insane more often than not but she does love you, did, past tense, she's dead, here read what she said about you" Who? No-one that's who.
I had such an occasion recently where Sophie ( yes, Sophie, some things never change) was going through something that made me SCREAM inside, and want to talk her to death,

( there is a very suspicious smell in here, what can THAT be? Hope the mouse didn't die in here under something, hope it died alright but not where I am going to smell it)

anyhoo, she made me want to teach and tell her and advise her and tell her TO STOP IT...but I didn't because a) She is a grown woman, albeit only in body, the rest is taking it's sweet time to catch up. b) when anyone tells Sophie to do anything, advises her, teaches her, she feels it her duty to prove them wrong and go right ahead and carry on, only more. c) sometimes I get sick of the sound of my own voice, rattling on to the wall, as if anything I say might somehow sink into a mind belonging to a child I gave birth to and actually making a difference.

So, I kept my mouth shut, which was SO HARD let me tell you. That's all I will tell you because it's her story and it's over anyway now. It worked, my keeping my mouth shut, she worked it out and I must say, she did it beautifully and with a certain amount of charm, if we discount her being arrested that is. Bless her big mouth and all, some things are never going to change, she still hasn't learned when to shut HER mouth, even when she is being restrained by a policeman and thrown into the back of a paddy wagon. I could tell you all about THAT experience as she is quite proud of it, which is why I yawned and said " how fascinating, did you get a fine because THAT would take the fun out of that for you wouldn't it?" seems she didn't, I should probably call the local police and tell them next time to fine her, she might think twice then.
So, today I was dilly dallying about whether to share her latest annoying phase, I mean how much do I want to share? I tell myself that recording all this will help me, when it's all over, to look back and say " OH MY! I forgot all about THAT....and oh how I will laugh, but then I realise with a sinking heart that, well it doesn't appear that it will ever be over because she KEEPS DOING WHAT SHE KEEPS DOING!
She is ->this<- close to losing her job, the one she is good at that pays her every month and keeps her somewhat busy during the day. Does she care? Nope, not at all. I, however feel sick at the thought of her not having this job. And that's all I am going to say about it because....dull. Very dull and repetative. I went to the movies this evening, with my friend who lives right here, in this very town, darn it if I don't keep forgetting I have friends who are right here, so obsessed am I with my over the sea friends that I forget I can call people here and say " shall we go out" and they say " yes, why don't we" and no-one has to get on a plane! For heaven's sake that's great isn't it? Flying across the ocean is marvellous and I am excited that I shall be doing just that in 6 weeks but going out, having fun and being home in time for bed, is pretty fabulous as well. So we went to see " the Ugly truth" which was very funny and romantic and quite rude in places. Whenever I watch anything vaguely romantic I feel sort of sad because Oh how I love romance and there isn't any, anywhere near me, H is many things, romantic isn't one of them. I believe he did that a couple of times when he was younger, with someone else and now, well we're older and wiser so no need for any of that is there? I talked to Jane and all the way home we were planning ways to get H to at least remember that I am here, I mean he knows I am HERE, someone is doing the laundry, he knows I am here, someone is bringing shopping in and putting it in the fridge after all. HE just seems to forget that I am here, me..the wife, he knows the mother of his children is here because his children are everything to him, he knows Helen is here because darn it all if she doesn't just keep talking to him all the time, always with the talking. I just think he forgets that THIS me is here, the one that no-one else sees, the one that really likes being with HIM, that H, not the daddy one or the spiritual giant, the H only I see, the one that is just mine. We talked ( because women do that ) about how to get him away from being the daddy for a while. When I came home, he opened the door for me ( see? He is such a gentleman, 10 years together and he opens the door for me, he also cooks dinner and cleans up so that I can get ready to go out and he puts the boys to bed and stays here with them while I fly across the world to be with my friends, he is a splendid specimen of manhood ) and we said hello and before I had a chance to say a word he said " you know what? I think we need to find a babysitter and start going out on friday evenings" and then, not 5 minutes later he said it again. Dan is down next week, I will ask him to stay here while we go out somewhere and we shall indeed be Helen and H and not mum and dad, just for a while because it's so easy to plod from day to day, week to week and forget who we are and what makes it all worthwhile. My friends are having a blast in Canada, pictures and texts, facebook status updates, so much fun, much laughter and of course, friendships being made and strengthened. I love the internet, where would my life be without it? I met H online, that's the best reason for loving it, I have made such great friendships, real honest to goodness ones , slipped up a couple of times without too many awful consequences ( egg on my face and a sense of 'how was I that stupid?) but all in all, wonderful people who, without the internet I wouldn't know...which doesn't bear thinking about, not at all. So I won't. I look at the pictures, I see all the laughter and the see Jenn and Julie, in pink and blue wigs, Cathy with her face splitting from ear to ear as she sees her friends arrive, as she arrived in Canada. I see pictures of stores and airports, hotel rooms and in every one, smiling faces, huge smiles and genuine joy. Life is all about memories, I am so lucky to be able to make memories that will last forever, with my children, my family and my friends, ones that I will smile about when I am old and have so much time on my hands that sitting near a window and remembering is something I get to do a lot. I thought I would be sad about not being in Canada but I'm really not, I get calls and speak to the splendid ladies ( and even hang up on them! Yep, that would be me, chat chat.....oh OK, bye bye, just as I hit the end call button, I heard someone say " HI!" click. Gah. ) and I get texts and updates and it just makes me so excited for Boston. The best part of these friendships for me, is that we are all different, different ages, different religions, different lifestyles, none of that matters, somehow all these women ( and the group keeps growing) have one thing in common, we all seem to find the same things funny and we are all keen that whoever is nearby feels happy to be there. Such kindness, behind the scenes and in your face, no-one ( I hope) ever feels left out, nobody is on the sidelines unless they put themselves there, some people like to take a back seat and others love to be right in the middle of all the fun ( I, personally and a shy and retiring sort and am always quietly in the background taking it all in. Yes, that would be my role. ) It amazes me that so many women, from all over the world, from so many backgrounds can have so much in common. Friendship is a beautiful thing. You're never too old, too young, too rich, too poor, too clever, too simple to be a friend or have friends. However, you can think you are too rich, too clever, too important and then....well then you lose your friends. Thinking isn't always the best way to being a friend, doing is what counts. What you say might be important, what you do is what matters.
Today has been a lovely day.
Tomorrow, I hope will be as lovely. Isaac is being baptised tomorrow. He said he wanted EVERYONE to be there and see him being baptised, luckily I didn't take him at his word, we have told very few people and this evening he said " I only want my family there" There will be a few more people there and I so hope he can deal with that, when the moment comes for him to be baptised, we can always send everyone out and keep just a few people there, nobody will mind at all. I am a little nervous as we have kept it really low key, I haven't organised it all to death, it's going to be ( I hope) a gentle, quiet time that he can remember happily.
How did he get to be 8 so quickly? Glorious Isaac.

It's a fact.

The following facts are fascinating to me...possibly not for you, I shall endeavor to make the recording of these facts more interesting but apologies in advance if I don't manage to do that.
In the past 12 months, 20,081 visits have been recorded on this blog. Now, I would love to say 20,081 people have been here, reading my every fascinating word but alas, t'is not so. Some people come back, often, some even in an almost stalker like way ( so flattering!) like 3 or 4 times a day and while I will say that sometimes I have been known to record pretty gripping stuff on this blog, I have to admit that I can't remember ever writing anything that fascinating.
Those 20,081 visits are from 74 different countries / territories. I write countries / territories because that's what Google says, don't ask me what determines what might constitute a country vs a territory because I don't know.
America wins, it has to be said. 11,419 visits from America, how I love you. California wins with 1,170 visits, I suspect that could be because I lived there, perhaps California misses me, I miss the sunshine of California and Target, grandpa and his next door neighbour, Marilyn. I loved the fact that Disneyland was a day out, Sea world a longer trip but still possible in a day ( we did that once, with 2 little boys and a grandpa, in our van, the old white van with no seats, I say no seats, when we got it it had only 2 front seats and then we put a bench seat in the back with the car seats on, anyone else choosing to travel with us would either sit on the floor or on a garden chair, we were so classy and also poor.) We had a glorious day at sea world, it could be one of my most favourite and memorable day trips, the fact that on the way home the engine fell out of the van makes it particularly memorable. One minute we were driving and H said "Hmmm, that sounds kinda weird" and the next CLUNK......GRIIIIIIIIIND and we stopped, thankfully in a parking lot, as H heard that ominous sound he had the foresight to pull into the car park of a hotel. On inspection we saw that the van was very dead, with it's engine on the ground, laughing at us. I hated that van, I laughed back and said, laugh all you like you pile of poop, we're just going to leave you here, see how funny you find it when you get towed away and crushed, laugh then crap-heap.
So, perhaps California is visiting the most to let me know that if I ever came back I could live in one of those houses we see in the movies with a nice car and straight white teeth and also be a size 4, who knows, won't ever get a chance to find out because I am pretty much certain that lottery win aside we won't ever live there again, you had your chance California, sorry you blew it.
Massachusetts is next ( Hi Cathy, Di, Sara, Colleen, I see you , you think you can pop in quietly but I know you love me! )
Canada is next with 4,413 visits. Glorious Canada with your Kraft peanut butter and your very slow postal service. I shall visit you one day, I promise.
So many visits from so many people. 3,017 visits from England, bless your hearts, 1,060 of those are from my home town, which freaks me out a little bit, I'm not known for being reserved on this blog and I often saunter through the town and wonder if that person knows I have to pluck my chin hair.
There are times when I actually pull myself back and stop myself writing things I really want to write because, well it sort of matters when you know that there are people who actually know you and might look at you askance in Tescos or even at church ( good grief) I forget who reads my blog, I went through a phase of handing out the address willy nilly, so narcissistic was I. I think more carefully these days but the damage might well have been done and there are people who know my darkest most inner secrets...whoops.
If several people live in the same area, then it's anyone guess who those people are, no matter, you read my blog, you're probably glorious, or mentally unhinged ( in which case I get you, feel at home, we're used to the unhinged around here) or a stalker ( 3-4 visits a day gets you that category, that's not healthy..go play with your kids or watch Diagnosis murder or something, there's nothing going on here that warrants that amount of obsessive refreshing, if you blocked me from reading YOUR blog and yet come here that many times a day, see your doctor, that's worrying.)
Also worrying are some of the things that people google before finding themselves sent here, some worrying, others hysterical.

' Do you gaze at your bald head and wish you had hair?' You probably should give up on that, it's gone, embrace the baldness.

' Am I ready to be a mother?' Oh darlin' I am sorry, if you googled that and got sent here I suspect you left feeling that you will never be ready for that.

'Pooh and wee song' Really? I don't know any of those, I could probably make one up that would make you smile, I would test in on my little people first, if it makes them laugh, you'll love it.

In fact there were a worrying amount of googlings for bum, pooh, willy and wee. ( now of course a new batch of infantile googlers will be sent straight here, to them I say " I can SEE you and I am going to tell your MOTHER! Get off the computer and read an Enid Blyton book. Go on! NOW, also wash your head out with hot soapy water. )

'Not impetigo', which is great, no-one likes Impetigo but if you have a sore, that is itching, scabby and weeping and you are googling what it could be, if it's not impetigo, go and see your doctor because it's not looking good.

'Bosoomers' for real! That actual word! Heh! Here's a fact about Bosoomers, I bought Sophie some new bras, M & S had a super sale and their splendid T shirt Bras were down to £1!! 34E.
34 E, yep now you googling perverts, them is BASOOMERS!

'Helen diet.com secret.' Yikes, the secret of my diet is that it doesn't work, not if you want to be thin. Try weight watchers, it's for the best.

'How can someone say they love you and then just walk away' Oh I never understood that either, they're liars, be glad they left, find a nice one that shows you they love you, words can be cheap.

'How much snot can a human body make in one day?' WHAT? How do I know? I can't even begin to think why anyone would want to know that. Gag.

' Noisy knickers' Oh now, that's getting personal now. My knickers don't make a sound.

'Exercise really hurts' It does, don't do it. No pain no gain, I don't want to gain, I want to lose, so I certainly won't be exercising.

'Not broken' Very good, whatever you do, don't fix it.

'Mist of misery' Oh dear. Did I cheer you at all? I do hope so.

'sugar free, worst gas farts' I might take offence at someone being sent here having googled that, I deny it wholefartedly.

' You are fatter' Cheeky git.

'70 year old hairy granny' shut up.

'Dear God, I want a boyfriend who tells me I am beautiful, even if I am wearing pyjamas' Hmm, I don't think God reads my blog, also sure he doesn't answer prayers via google. I do wish you all the best in your search though. Bless your heart.


'Feel really ill and something fleshy looking fell in the toilet' For the love of .....GO TO HOSPITAL get off the computer.

'Girls bum and willey' Um, I don't think girls have a willey. They have a tuppence. Off you go.

'Hemorrhoids anger' Yes, I heard that. Also, hurt.

Oh google, how you make me laugh ( and also recoil in horror because there are some seriously deranged people out there and the fact that they get sent HERE after googling such sickness is shudderingly creepy, luckily I see that they got here, were disappointed and never came back again. Phew. Creeps.)
So there we have it, some facts and figures courtesy of Google analytics, I thank you.
Feel free to out yourself so I can see who my 20, 081 hitters are ( unless you are a pervert, you can stay anonymous in your dingy back bedroom )
Thankyou for coming here lovely people.

In case you were wondering...

Sometimes, it appears as though I am doing nothing. Absolutely nothing. That would be because I'm not. I do this sometimes, because I can.
When Sophie was 10 weeks old, the first one left. I've been pretty clear about how I felt about that and how I feel about now.
Arsehole.
What I felt very strongly was, on top of all that sadness and betrayal, all the heart-rending surety that I would never get over such misery, was a real panic about my children. I hated the fact that they would grow up saying " Oh my parents are divorced" they would know about 'my dad's girlfriend' they would know all about broken families and I really, REALLY hated that.
10 years.
I was a single mother for TEN YEARS! In all that time, the first one would have the boys every month for the weekend, wasn't competent enough to have Sophie as a baby, when he decided he was going to leave, quite soon after I conceived her, he distanced himself from everything to do with the pregnancy, he didn't discuss it, wasn't interested in it, she was mine from the very start I think.
He started to take her when she was 2, his girlfriend was very jealous of this blond haired, blue eyed, chunky thigh-ed baby, she did not want her around and when I heard that she had smacked Sophie, across the face, hard....I found her ( she used to wait down the road while the first one would collect the kids) and I shoved my face right in hers and told her that if she EVER raised a hand to my children again, any of them, I would find her again and I would hit her, harder that she has ever been hit and she would never ever want to hit a child again. I then told her that she wasn't about to get the chance to hit Sophie again because she was staying at home, with me. Which is what she did.
So, for 10 years I didn't get out much, I stayed at home and I kept things beautiful, I made sure that no-one could ever tut tut and put it all down to, you know, single parent.
I didn't go out, unless the children came too. I went out with my sister a few times, to a nightclub ( ack) one night, I went to the toilets and as I walked in, out came 2 women in their 50's doing that drunken cackle laugh and leaning all over each other, I looked at them and though to myself
" I am SO glad I don't have a mother who comes to a place like this" followed quickly by " OH MY GOODNESS..my children DO!" and I never went again.
I lived my life with the assumption that whatever I did, my children might one day hear about it and so, I didn't do anything I would hate for them to know. I so wanted to be a good example, I felt that if I didn't have anything to give them, if there was absolutely nothing in the world but a safe and honest life and a mother who they could be proud of, that's what I would give them. It does strike me as ironic that between them they have pretty much done every single thing I DIDN'T do..but it was a great plan anyway.
I didn't have any 'breaks' I didn't go away, we weren't invited anywhere often because Sophie was a live-wire and as unpredictable as can be,I think for those years I was pretty much switched off from life, all except from what these children needed right then and there. It wasn't terrible, there were terrible things to get over but life, actually was OK. I treasure that time because it was MY world, being a single mother has it's benefits and I loved being able to raise these children exactly the way I chose, without any contradiction. I do thank the first one for that, he always told me I was a good mother and he never spoke poorly about me to the children. He also went with whatever I said was right for the children, he didn't always like it but he did what I decided.
When Sophie was 8 or 9, my sister persuaded me to go with her to Utah....such an out of character thing for me to do and my mum was happy to stay with the children because it was such a novelty. I had a great time, saw America and came home saying " It was great, loved having a holiday there but can't understand why so many people want to live there."
Funny how soon after that I met H online and the only reason I was able to get on a plane and brave the thought of America was because I had been with Jane and seen that it was quite nice. If I hadn't taken that trip with Jane I would never have gone, on my own to meet H in L.A.
When Sophie was 10, I met H online in June, went to meet him September and came home, sold everything I owned and moved lock, stock and barrel to marry him in November.
We were married on November 27th and 2 weeks later I had a positive pregnancy test. When Seth was 10 weeks old, I had another positive pregnancy test and 11 months later along came Isaac. So, new country, new husband, 3 teenagers, one Sophie, 2 babies.
I didn't make friends in America, not until I was about to move back home. Typical.
I did not, ever expect my older children to look after my babies, it was not their job, they did not choose to have these babies, they had a huge adjustment to make as it was.
Howard's first son lived with us and he was SO mad at the world at his dad who had gone from being Mr easy going anything for a quiet life what on earth an I meant to do with this kid....to hey! New mom! New siblings! Poor kid. Poor me. Poor everyone.
So, what I am trying to say is, no-one helped, it was us against every kind of horror you can imagine and a few more.
Oh how we laughed at all the people who would exclaim "Hey I guess you have lots of help with those babies, huh?"
NO! We didn't.
Teenagers, on the whole don't take kindly to actual human reminders that their parents are, you know, *doing it*. They will try everything possible to pretend *that* isn't happening.
Teenagers keep you up late at night, they are loud, they are not in the least bit worried about making sure they KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING AND EWWWWWWWWW! GROSS!
Little babies sleep through the evening ( unless they have colic) and then, just as the big kids fall into a coma, WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH.
They also wake up ( mine did anyway, every single one of them) around 5am. 6 if you're lucky.
Teenager suck your soul. They have such hormonal angst, they need your attention every bit a much as a baby, but it's your MIND they want, not your opinions or your advice, just your face, sitting near theirs, looking interested but not as if you are going to tell them what to do.
Be seen but not heard.....that's what teenagers want from their parents.
They want to be ferried and taxied and picked up and handed money.
Babies take your physical energy, every ounce of it. Day and night. Such little lumps of heavenly preciousness and they can rule the world.
Put teenagers ( 3 boy ones) preteen ( Sophie, angry and determined to make H leave) and 2 babies....whoops, THREE babies, here comes Eli, precious and so wanted. Put all that into one house.....with 2 parents.
Oh. So. Tired.
We came to England when I was pregnant with Elijah, I was 5 months pregnant when I came back, H arrived the day before I went in to have Elijah.
So, I had 4 months, nearly 5 months of being alone, with Sophie and the 2 little boys. Mum and dad helped me and they drove me here and there, the boys were clingy because this was such a big change for them and they missed H so terribly. So they stayed with me, mum did take them out a couple of times which was such a treat, I was so tired. Oh so tired.
H arrived, Elijah arrived and now we were 6, in a tiny little house.
In 6 years we have had 6 houses, H had a heart attack, I have been a raving lunatic, all is well.
When Elijah started school, after a few weeks a splendid thing began to happen. H and I began to lift up our heads and look around and we liked what we saw.
We started to breathe.....Sophie left and came home and had a nightmarish 16 months in between. Jordan moved in with us and for 2 years we had 7 in our house.
H and I still don't go out in the evenings, we sometime go out together in the day, sometimes we don't.
Very often we don't do anything, or go anywhere and that is just as we like it.
so now I am a grandma and it would seem, even though I was very clear before he was born that I was not going to be a hands on, here he is, give him to me because I haven't had enough of babies grandma, it appears no-one believed me.
I find, more often than I would like, find myself saying "no" "Nope!" "sorry, no"
I explain that look, I have been at home, being a mother for 24 years, I have been there, done that, over and over again . I get phone calls asking me to have Joshua because "oh it is IMPOSSIBLE to get anything done!"
I am asked to pick him up when they want to go somewhere and he isn't happy about it.
I am asked to babysit so they can have a break.
I like that I am able to say no, they never take offense, they don't complain ( to me anyway!) Sophie is often the messenger, because she isn't afraid to say " But you're not DOING anything!"
She's quite right, more often than not, I am NOT doing anything. Because I can.
I am going to continue not doing anything. If that's what I want.
And what's more, I am not going to apologise for it.

Coming along for the ride.

So, I went to see my Doctor today and told her what I have been feeling and all about the marathon anxiety attacks etc, I also told her that I have had suicidal thoughts, not in a "I am going to do that" kind of way but in a " I get that and see why people do it because....dear Lord this is a miserable way to live" kind of way.
I won't kill myself, I am so far away from ever contemplating it, truly. In fact the very opposite is true, I worry way too much about every ache and pain and dread being ill because I have so much to look forward to, so much every day that brings so much happiness and pride.
She asked me about the boys and I was able to say with complete honesty that they are the most glorious thing to me, all my children. None of this misery is about them. It is all about me, how marvellously self indulgent I have become.
H is getting the brunt of this phase, as a good husband usually does, he is unchanged and so H, he is the same now as he has been for years. Which irritates the crap out of me.
When the first one left, he made sure that he left me knowing that it was all my fault. How stupid and boring I was, how ugly and useless I had become and how on earth was he supposed to live with THAT?
I know that everything he said and did was to make HIM feel better, to justify his behaviour, his selfishness.

For years, yes, YEARS, he would come and see the boys and he never came without imparting his wisdom.

"You met anyone yet? Well, don't hold your breath, you're alright at first glance and I suppose there will be men that are taken in by you, but you'll never meet one that stays, when he gets to know you, the real you, he'll go because well, not being mean but there isn't a man alive that could stand to be with you for long."

" Hey, you lost weight....don't let it worry you because you always manage to find it, shame really because no matter how much weight you lose....you're ruined on the inside, inside and out, beyond repair, nothing can be done, good on you for trying though."

H, without having a clue, without stepping out of line or even opening his mouth, just getting up in the morning and minding his own business, can remind me of the things the first one said. Poor bugger, doesn't quite hug me hard enough? Hates me, first one was right, is planning how to leave me.
Doesn't light up when I walk into a room? Thinking of how revolting I am.
Isn't completely wow-ed by dinner? Ungrateful shit, does he not know how lucky he IS? What's he thinking, he could get better elsewhere?

I don't tell H any of this because, well Ouch! In fact I don't tell anyone this, except you, sometimes because who wants to hear it? It is, honestly, completely and utterly exhausting. Nothing is ever just as it is, except the boys, they are just who they are and they are perfect, all uncomplicated and innocent, just as they should be and I wouldn't change a single thing about any of them.
H sat with me this afternoon and put his arm 'round me when I told him that I had told the Dr how I hated him....what a good man he is, not a huff or a puff or a sigh of slight, just a squeeze and a back rub. I don't hate him...I think I am endlessly terrified that he will hate me. I feel as though I am waiting for him to let me know the first one was right and that is so unfair on him, he couldn't be more different.
The Dr gave me a questionnaire to fill in, a quiz if you like. I don't do things by half, not me, I got the highest score possible, even got a gasp of admiration from my lovely G.P. who said that she thinks I am incredibly insightful, that I notice more about the people I love than others might and that I am very sensitive to their needs, she said that I actually am one step ahead of what is happening and because of the exceptional circumstance I have found myself in, feel that the universe and it's happenings are down to me, that I ought to be able to step in and stop every bad thing from happening...but I can't.
She gave me medication, I am sad about that but I am sad anyway, so what the hell?
She also said that when I have one of the mammoth anxiety attacks, when I can't breathe my way out of it, when it seems that it is endless, I can take one of my marvellous 'Pams' my ' why yes I can get on a plane because all is fluffy and well and zzzzzzzzzzzzz..oh look I'm there!" tablets and the best part? I don't even have to actually get on a plane! I say, that almost makes me look forward to a big old panic, which means, naturally that I won't get anymore. Life's a sod isn't it?

I was told years ago that I should be on medication for life, that my depression was so severe that even though there would be periods when I felt great, the odds were that in my case, it's always going to slam it's way back at some stage. I puddled along pretty well with slumps and peaks and mediocre moments. I had acupuncture and acupressure and forgot to take the meds and before I knew it a week or two had passed and I thought well, why start taking them again? So I didn't. I have been without any meds for 3 years and I love that, the side effects are awful, I hate how I sweat when I take that medicine, however, I hate how I have been the past few weeks even more, I intend to follow some other avenues in the hope that I can beat this into submission again, I will because I do, it's an illness, I wouldn't hesitate to take medicine for diabetes, high blood pressure, infections etc I have to try not to beat myself up for having to take these again.
I just read the leaflet that comes with the meds, I like that drowsiness is a side effect especially when taken with anti histamines.....I love drowsy, bring that on I say.
Also it rather splendidly effects bladder tone and helps with bed wetting, not that my iron pelvic floor ever has any weak moments of course but it would be nice if my bladder decides it does not need to empty at 3am, or even 5am I would love to wake up because I am not tired anymore, rather than because I need to wee, small things bring such joy.
Increased appetite and weight gain...look here, I am the first one to sing the praises of the people behind the medicines but for the love of cake! Depressed people don't need help to gain weight, I certainly don't, I don't need an increase in my appetite, why can't they make a tablet that helps you feel better and also ...would you look at ME! Thin! Ewwww chocolate, who wants THAT? Not me! How hard could that be? They can stop you wetting the bed and help you sleep, bring sunshine and joy back into your life.....but you'll probably get fatter, sorry grumpy, can't be helped.
So, here we go, weekly doctors appointments, promises to call, even at 3am should things seem even more bleak than they have been, pleas to take care of myself and let's get this show in the road why don't we?
I will be sure to take you all along for the ride, as always.

Flip flop.

Dan has been down for a few days, which we love. He is great, I know he is mine but he IS great, take for instance this morning, he was driving down our road and a lady reversed out of her drive and backed right into his car...she stopped and of course was shaken, the first thing he did was ask her if SHE was OK and then told her not to worry about the dent because he doesn't care, it doesn't matter, he's lovely. And so very very loud.
The boys adore him and Eli particularly was his shadow this time.
H and I are very gentle, we don't do rough and boisterous, we let them do it and enjoy watching them wrestle and play but really we are very gentle and frumpishly polite, Dan and Jordan provide more than enough of the rough, boisterous, loud and ungentle. They love it, Seth REALLY loves it, Eli likes it from a distance and Isaac enjoys watching other people on the receiving end of it. Sometimes they are really rough, I often go to intervene and then see how actually, these little boys seem to love being shoved and picked up, flung here and dropped there...



See how Seth gets pushed over at the end? He loved it, laughed like a drain while I sit here thinking " ooh, oh...um....my precious!" and I keep my mouth shut and soak in the fact that my children adore each other,
I love that they go out of their way to spend time with each other, they are not afraid to hug, kiss, smack, shove, punch, squeeze, tease, laugh. They help each other out, if one needs anything the others are there, without being asked. There isn't anything more precious to a mother than to see this kind of love between her children.
Yesterday, Dan, Jordan, Sophie, Mel and Joshua went to Somerset to see Nanny and Grandad H. The first one's parents, the first one was going to meet them there.
When they got home, Sophie said she had had a great time and that "even dad was lovely" That is the first time ever that she has said anything positive about her dad. What a huge step forward for her. I spoke to her before she left and told her that she should remember that Nanny and grandad are old and also not very well and that if she could, she should try to make sure they had a lovely visit with them.
Sophie cannot pretend, she can't act as though she is OK, if she isn't. She can't pretend that someone isn't getting on her nerves, if they are. She has never been able to be near her dad without being surly, argumentative and feisty.
Yesterday she was happy, she enjoyed the day and was able to see that her dad is not the devil in disguise.
Both the boys said that he had seemed out of place, that he was ill at ease and seemed unable to enjoy the day, which is sad because it should have been an incredible day for him and one that is very unlikely to happen again, his parents, all his children and his grandson all together for the day. How sad that he didn't bask in that day. I often wonder if days like that make him see just a glimpse of what he doesn't have.

The is is a 4 generation picture, Joshua, Jordan, the first one and his dad, Joshua doesn't look like anybody but the other 3 are obviously related!



Dan took Eli and Seth swimming today, Isaac won't go because there is altogether too much splashing and throwing in for his liking. He came with me, shopping.
On the way home, quite out of the blue in the middle of a pleasant chat about toys, he said " I want to know where babies come from!"
"Pardon?"
"where do babies come from?"
" Heaven"
" I mean, when they are in your tummy, where do they come from?"
" Do you already know? Why are you asking?"
"No, I don't know and I am asking because I want to know "
" Well, you just said, they come from their mummy's tummy"
"I KNOW that, but I want to know how they get IN there"










Oh dear.
I'm not saying I am fluffy about the whole birds and bees thing, I think I have proven that I am able to hold it together when my kids talk to me and somehow they do seem to talk to me about things I would really rather they didn't. ( when I hear people say how they want their kids to feel free to discuss ANYTHING with them, I don't buy it, really, there are many things you do NOT want to hear your children tell you, take my word for it.)
It's just that there wasn't a bit of warning, no preamble, no hint that this was on his mind, not even a mention of his wondering... why he suddenly wanted to know RIGHT THEN is what threw me.
So, I said, " well, the mummy has an egg and the daddy has a seed....and daddy puts his seed into mummy"
"Oh don't be so ridiculous!"
I swear he said that! I knew, pretty much, that going any further with this conversation would be futile because, well it gets MORE ridiculous doesn't it? He I think I got myself some breathing space to work out how I will explain the rest, to him and Seth because let's get it over with at once I say.

Flip flopping from one subject to another, taking charge of myself is working. Allowing myself to be afraid of flying and saying I won't do it, has helped me feel better, ( as if anyone was forcing me to do anything so frightful and hideous, for heavens sake being invited to wonderful places to meet splendid people, poor me!)
I have stopped hashing and rehashing the shall I? shan't I? nonsense, in fact not thinking about it at all is refreshing.
I am not dieting, hopefully I will soon get back on track, what I am doing is eating 3 meals a day, good meals, not picking and junking, saturdays are the day I will eat a little of what I fancy and perhaps very soon I shall be right back to feeling great again.
I already feel much better without stuffing my face every spare second, here's hoping I remember for a long time that my mood is in my hands, not in my mouth!

Flipping again..does anyone have ANY idea why, when I hit post, the last word of one line is repeating on the next one? It drives me crazy to read what I have written and see the same words repeated, I absolutely don't write it that way but have no idea what the cause of that mystery could be! Any help would be great.

Sometimes...

It's just a matter of giving yourself a good talking to.
It seems to have worked. That and getting a rowing machine from freecycle...oh my goodness, I may well have found an exercise I can do that actually works!
Small and sweet, 2 short bursts on the rowing machine and I feel splendidly sore, wobbly legged and tight backed.
My fridge has grapes, melon, salad, water. For dinner we had tortilla wraps with turkey, fresh veggies and some hoisin sauce.....delicious.
I do believe I have managed to boost myself along for another stint of doing myself good.
I am planning major rewards along the way too. I am absolutely going to have a new ring when I have lovely slender fingers again. And...when I am right where I want to be, when I wake up in the morning and can look at myself and feel content....I am going somewhere. You wait and see!
I haven't been there before but I am going when I am all done. Yes I am.
I am reluctant to admit that after going on the rowing machine, I did have a period of feeling I wanted to do more..imagine that. I resisted though because I am sore and I don't want to be so sore tomorrow that I can't use the rower at all.
I have friends coming around tomorrow, we are sure to just have fun and watch a DVD but I suspect we may get the rowing machine out and have stupid competitions to see who can do the most, very funny how you start off thinking how easy it is, then oh, um...bit hard, ouch tough this...so a group of women trying to out do each other should be fun!
I am so relieved that I am somehow sticking with this new life, that all the old miseries are not winning, the pull to sabotage all the good work is weaker than the desire to beat it and be better.
I look at the fact that I have 6 children, 3 still at home and looking at me for an example and I have papers with descriptions of me written on them saying I am blank faced and robotic...if strangers are seeing this kind of thing, what to my children see? What will they remember when they are adults? I do not want them to always remember me struggling, or sad. I have so few pictures of me with my children because I have hated myself for so long. I want to remedy that and I will, I am so determined not to let myself ever be as sad as I was.
The cycle is so terrifying though, feel miserable, eat rubbish, gain weight, loathe myself, eat more, disgust myself, eat more, give in.
If I can just get through each time when I feel so close to slipping backwards, I hope that the times when that awful miserable feeling descend will get fewer and further between. I hope that at some stage, I can leave all those worthless feelings behind me for good. I don't see why that can't happen. For the first time that I can ever remember I feel almost angry, the years that have been wasted on being so sad, the opportunities I have missed because I was afraid or sad or just numb, I don't want to waste anymore time, miss any more chances, enough is enough. I am angry at everything life throws at me that threatens to shove me back into that miserable pit I spent so many years in. I wonder how some people manage to flit through life without really ever having to deal with huge sadness, few trials, little worry. I don't envy those people and actually I can't even say that I would swap places, or not have experienced any of the things I have been through, I am who I am, I am where I am. I would rather not have any more enormous hurdles to cross though ( you know, in case the angels are reading my blog ... I like normal, boring is great....move right along trials and tribulations all.)
They say money is a trial... I will take that one, just to see if I can get through it admirably, I believe I would be kind and generous and am sure I would use it to the good, be wise and entertain strangers. Just saying, you know, in case.
So, I shall continue to talk to myself, keep whining and replying and telling myself how marvellous I am....and it will keep working. It will.

If you can't say something nice.....

Get on your blog and whine all you like, you're allowed to, it's the law.

I am stumped, blog wise because I can only seem to think about how much my back hurts. I had to go shopping today and as I leant on the trolley and shuffled behind all the old ladies stocking up on tea bags and women's weekly I felt a strange kinship with them. It'll be thick stockings and a blue rinse before you know it.

I have no idea what is going on and truth be told, I am a little afraid of finding out because it is definitely something strange.

I can't tell if it's muscular or if it's internal but it hurts, whine whine. Every evening when it hurts so much I actually whimper a bit I resolve that tomorrow I am going to see a Dr, then tomorrow comes and I talk myself into waiting a bit longer to see if it gets better. You could say I am taking it like a man!

Actually, if I were to give in to my tree huggy tendencies, ( the likes of which are getting stronger as I get older) I would say that the past few weeks I have been holding myself tense for some reason, I am battling some kind of slide into depression because I am sick of heading that way. It would be so easy to shut myself off and settle into that somewhat comforting nothingness. When I get tired , it feels quite nice to shut off, I just don't think I have any reason to feel depressed, so I am trying not too. That's quite hard work when for years you have given in to the clouds.

Actually I am sure that January makes most of us feel like switching off, crawling back into bed and waking up in April when the dreariness is over. Please.

I think also that not having something really great to look forward to makes it harder to just get up and get on with it all.

Things are great, they really are. I cannot complain, there are things happening that I never hoped to see, miracles in fact. I believe more readily that good can happen, I still have the tendency to wait for it all to turn to crap. I heard a phrase on the Simpsons today and it said it all " I am wallowing in my own crapulence" That says it perfectly.
Sometimes we can do no more than just enjoy the fact that we are crappy and grumpy. If it's not making other people miserable, just enjoy it, have a good whine, grumble, mutter as you drive along the road, swear at the wobbly trolley in Asda and then just get the hell over it.
I hope I get over it soon because I am getting on my own nerves, I want my funny back please and I want rid of this hurty back while I'm at it.

Swings and roundabouts.

Some grumpy stuff
All morning I had the voices, those nagging miserable thoughts that were telling me what a waste of time it all is to even try and lose this amount of weight. Reminding me how often I have tried, and failed, how slow this is and how long it will take. A small thing started it, I washed my fleece jacket and dried it in the tumble drier, it shrunk, it is tight and the sleeves are short....oh how that made me feel like crap. That led to all the old feelings of how useless and fat, ugly and hopeless I feel.
This is when, ordinarily I would give in, oh it's too hard, why bother when it's obviosuly a waste of time blah blah. This time though, my head is fighting back. For every " ugly/ fat/ useless" thought there is a " well stuffing your face won't change THAT will it?"
For every " What's the point, you've never managed to lose all the weight before" there is a " So? this time can be different, can't it?" Even a " look, give in and go back to how it was...then what? More self loathing and misery, even if you don't lose another pound, you are better and healthier than you were 6 months ago" and so I carry on.
My legs and back have been so bad this week, so much pain. It seems that the leg pain is related to the back, nerves are trapped and so as the day goes on the nerves are pinched and send pain to my ankles and make that spasm thing happen. This week has been awful and my first reaction to feeling pain of any kind, is to comfort it with food, sad ? Eat. Hurt? Eat. Miserable? Feed it. I can cook such great food and I love to do it and I love to eat it even more! This week I have made some great dinners and a fabulous soup but I didn't give in and bake, no fluffy cakes, no cookies, no rice puddings.......no short blasts of heavenly comfort.
I want to kick it all up a notch but even walking makes my legs and back hurt more, the flip side to that is, the weight I am is contributing to the back pain, the more weight I lose the less I will hurt, maybe it will be worth causing extra pain in the short term to help the levels of pain on the long term.
I am such a sissy though.

Some good stuff.
It is way too cold to go out in this weather with the boys, earlier this morning I went to the workshop and brought in a box of dinosaurs that have been packed up since we moved out of the barn, that's nearly 18 months....Eli can't remember ever seeing them and Isaac was more excited than I can remember him ever being about them. They played with them ALL day, hours and hours of nice playing, games and imagining and playing some more and sharing.









At dinner time, Isaac said to Seth ( who had joined in briefly once or twice and absolutely refuses to admit he ever loved dinosaurs and knew every name of every one) "Hey Seth! SETH! Let's put the dinosaurs into groups!"
Seth looked at him with such distain and replied " No, Isaac, we won't, we will not behave like autistic people!" Heh! What? Has he looked up autism online or something? Who told him autistic people like to line things up and group them? Also, how did he manage not to comment on H's panicked suggestions that we NOT put the meat eaters in with the herbivores......NO! Lets NOT......oh look you mixed them, we should sort them out again tomorrow, bring in both boxes, keep them SEPERATE!

Sophie brought Joshua up for an hour or so, he is delightful, completely divine and getting so big and boyish. He is over 23lbs and in the 90% for his height too, glorious hair and the sweetset disposition. ( unless he is cross and then he is quite formidable)


( Grandma! Tell him! He' touching my laptop!)


(That's better, I have to check my emails.)


( yeah, OK seth, I get it!)


( DUUUUUUUUUUDE!)



I love the way this baby looks at me, he has that smile that makes you feel like you are the very person he has been waiting to see. Beautiful boy.

I hope that the negative feelings I have had pass quickly and that I am able to see the wonderful things more clearly. In the meantime I shall remind myself that it is only by feeling sad sometimes that we are able to see and appreciate the good times so much more.